


Collide

by getfassbent



Series: Running in Parallels [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bickering, Character Death, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Romance, future smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:37:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getfassbent/pseuds/getfassbent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Telepath Gemma Shepherd has spent most of her life at the SHIELD base under the care of Nick Fury. Between training and being experimented on she's never had much of a chance at living a normal life. <br/>Now with the danger of the vengeful Norse god of lies at hand everything she's known is about to change. She knows she must stop him at all costs. Set during Avengers. (remastered from when i originally posted it on ff.net. ill be posting by chapter as changes are made.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trade

Gemma Shepherd, (called 'Gem' by anyone who knew her well enough to understand that her given name was a great annoyance to her) was by no means, an average girl and that had nothing to do with the fact that she absolutely excelled in mathematics, sciences and reasoning. Nor did it have anything to with her being a trained athlete and showing remarkable potential as a soldier. No, those were only the beginnings of her strengths. She possessed one more powerful ability which really set her apart from everyone else out there.  
Gemma Shepherd could read minds.  
And it wasn't just that. She could make people do things. She could communicate with anyone, anywhere without even opening her mouth.

It was a power she'd been born with. Her parents, Mark and Carry had noticed from the get-go that their daughter was different. They'd become aware of the abnormal things that happened whenever young Gemma was concerned. It stated when she was too young to talk, when most infants cried and threw tantrums at the frustrations of being unable to communicate their wants and needs. With Gemma it was different. Mark and Carry always seemed to know, as if compelled by some supernatural force, if and when their daughter needed something. That was only the start of things though and at the time the young couple chalked it up to nothing more than a strong, loving connection with their first born child.  
Things took a change for the worse when Gemma grew older. It'd become apparent by the time she was in preschool, playing in the dirt box with the other kids, that she possessed a gift. But it wasn't one that her parents were proud of. They grew scared of their only child, a girl who seemingly could do as she pleased in the world. A girl who solved her own problems and childish desires through any means necessary. And when her classmate, Terry Westover went missing from the school grounds after a dispute over a plastic toy with Gemma her parents knew they had to do something.  
Of course, the school had no idea that young Gemma was to blame but when Mark and Carry picked their daughter up at school early that day because of the missing child, Gemma was elated. Between her chubby hands she was clutching an action figure. Mark and Carry took their daughter home and gave her some coloring books to keep her distracted while they themselves watched the news with anxious faces, following the story of the search for the little boy who'd walked right out of the playground and then right off of campus and down the street and then kept walking until he was gone.  
The reporter on screen had an expression on her face that clearly demonstrated that she felt the entire circumstances were far beyond herself.  
“Once again, Terry Westover was last seen in the sandbox at Merryweather Dayschool where he was playing with his friends. He is 5 years old, light brown hair and black eyes. Last seen wearing a forest green polo and baby blue shorts. If you have any information concerning his disappearance don’t hesitate to dial the number on the screen,”  
Gemma's parents looked at each other with fearful eyes. They were both thinking about how terrified that young boy must be, where ever he was. They were also thinking that the teachers at their daughter's school must have been on drugs; their tale was unbelievable. As if on queue, a frazzled woman appeared on screen holding a microphone and standing with the reporter in front of the playground.  
“Tell us, Miss Kay, what happened in this sand box just three hours ago,” the reporter was saying.  
Miss Kay looked like she'd just woken from a deep sleep to find the world on fire.  
“Terry was right there,” she pointed to the sandbox, littered with abandoned toys amongst them a missing sneaker. “that's his shoe..” she trailed off and her eyes shined with unspent tears. “He was playing with some toy... and one of the other kids was trying to take it from him. I hurried over there to pull the kids off of each other... and then... and then he got up and started to walk away. He looked queer... like he was sleepwalking...”  
Mark and Carry were frozen for a moment before they exchanged yet another look filled with fear.  
“did you try to stop him?” the reporter asked.  
Miss Kay's face crumpled.  
“no. no I didn't. I did nothing. I just watched him walk away.”  
The reporter's face now filled the screen.  
“This same story has been reported by all the other teachers on duty-they saw young Terry leave campus but they didn't think to do anything to stop him from leaving. Several witnesses from the streets reported seeing the boy, but none of them questioned him.”  
The camera panned over the school again, landing once more on the crying teacher.  
The news story cut away from Miss Kay's sobbing when it was interrupted by a commercial for some breakthrough diet pill. Mark got to his feet walked down the hall very slowly and cautiously as if the tile were made of molasses. He knocked on the door to Gemma's playroom and then opened it up, peering in. His daughter was fast asleep on the floor, a serene look on her face as she snuggled her favorite stuffed animal- a dolphin. Laying forgotten on the floor amidst crayons and coloring books was something that made Mark's stomach drop. He bent down to pick up the action figure and he turned it in his hands. In a tiny, neat script at the base of the toy was a name written in sharpie.  
Terry Westover.  
__________________________________________________________________  
Mark Shepherd was a scientist and engineer. He was youthful but his face was already etched with lines of worry by the time he came into contact with a man called Nick Fury. Fury was a powerful man, a member of an organization known as SHIELD. He met with Mark and Carry at once after receiving a panicked phone call from the couple. He listened to their story with rapt interest and then he made some arrangements.  
When Gemma was the age of six, only three months and one day after the disappearance of Terry Westover, the Shepherd family packed up and moved onto the high security military and science base where Fury was located. The man had provided clearance for the family for a maximum of seven months, assuming that the situation with young Gemma would be quickly understood and harnessed.  
However, that proved startlingly to not be the case. Gemma was not happy in her new home. She missed her friends. She longed everyday to play with children her own age. She did not enjoy being studied and poked and prodded by men and women in white lab coats.  
“What happened to Terry?” they asked her every day. Gemma was loath of their questions.  
“He's missing,” she said  
“Did you make him go missing?”  
“I told him to give me his toy and go away.”  
At the end of the seven months, the team of highly trained professionals were stumped, thoroughly washed out and defeated. They were unable to reason with the six year old, and to make matters worse, whenever the child decided she'd had enough of their inquisition, or whenever she decided she wanted to go outside and play the scientists had no choice but to obey her. She was in complete control.  
Fury came to the decision that Gemma Shepherd was simply too dangerous to release into the world, and that on top of the threat she presented to society, there was still a lot that could be learned from studying the child. Mark and Carry Shepherd came to an agreement with the corporation. Providing that S.H.E.I.L.D. granted the two of them money and credentials, Fury and his team would take over custody of the girl in hopes that with time and effort they would be able to utilize her abilities.  
And so it was.


	2. Fury

_____Loki______

He felt all-consumed by the white-hot pain that tore threw him, washing over his frail beaten body in waves, sending him into convulsions where he lay. Exactly where that was, Loki did not know. He remembered bits of memories in flashes.  
The Ice Giants. Odin. Thor and the battle on the bridge. Each memory that came to surface grew increasingly harder to bear, until, at last, he recalled his last waking moment. The hard, set lines of Odin's face as he said those words.  
'no.'

The only thing Loki had known for a long time was falling. It was worse than death for there seemed to be no end. He was perfectly aware of the passing of time. He felt no pain nor emotion other than the rejection and the blunt loss he felt for his family.  
Finally, after what seemed like centuries had passed Loki stopped falling. He had, by that time reverted into himself completely. Lost track of time, of feeling. He felt almost bored falling through space and time regarding his ever-changing surroundings with a mere mild disinterest. He bottled up his pain and turned it into anger. Hatred. The lust for revenge. It was those emotions that kept him alive as he fell.  
Until he no longer fell.  
Snapped into awareness of himself, of the world, Loki realized he had simply stopped moving. He felt a taunt soreness surrounding his body like thick, tense ropes wound tightly around his slim and starving figure.  
Slowly, painfully, those invisible ropes hauled him up. Up through space and time, dragging him through inter-dimensional rifts and past entire galaxies. Through black holes and burning sons and shining stars and cold, cold moons. Until, at last, he found himself laying dazed on solid ground.  
That's when the pain hit.

____Gemma_____

Gemma was up before dawn on a breezy summer day, testing her strength with a bow and arrow. However, it wasn't your average run-of-the-mill bow and arrow. It was modified with special built-ins. Loaded with gun powder that had the force to implode an entire sky scraper.  
That is why she was up before the sun that morning; the weapon wasn't hers to use. She had stolen it. Or rather borrowed it without asking, (mind you, in the dead of the night, in circumstances requiring much stealth and secrecy). There was an archer living on base a man called 'Hawkeye.' He had tried, in vain to get the others to call him 'Clint' but it was the ridiculous sounding nickname that stuck, much to his annoyance. And it was, Gemma had to admit, very fitting for the sturdy young man who was known for his excellence in archery. It was from Hawkeye that Gemma had stolen her prize.   
Ever since the man had arrived on base, the curious nineteen-year-old had eyed his weapon with desire. She wanted nothing more than to get her hands on such a powerful tool. However, actually achieving this was much easier said than done. Fortunately, the risk was half of the fun for Gemma. She was never afraid to step up to a challenge. It had taken days of preparation and planning to break into Hawkeye's room and to sneak out with the bow (he actually slept clenching it in his hand). But the thrill of the act was well worth the wait.  
Gemma was also aware that to return the bow after she had her fun with it would be almost as, if not more trying. She'd carefully observed Hawkeye's routines and had marked that the man usually was awake by the time the sun rose. Except for on Saturdays. On Saturdays he liked to sleep in a few extra hours. Which is why Gemma had chosen to steal the bow that day; it would give her some extra time to spare.  
Of course, had it not been for her accident two months earlier, Gemma might have had a much easier way to procure the bow. She could have simply used mind control to get what she wanted from Hawkeye. However, after a slight mishap involving three stolen military vehicles, a midnight extrusion, a high speed motorway cop chase and thousands of dollars in fines and repair, (not to mention extraordinary amounts of mind control) Gemma had been confined to the mundane ways of life. That is to say, Fury and his team had placed restrictions on her that she had no way out of. A metal cuff secured around her neck prevented her from using her abilities.  
The cuff was called a 'Mobile Functioning Barrier' or M.F.B. The team had engineered it specifically for Gemma by the time she was fourteen, which, ironically was around the time her powers became too unpredictable and the outcomes disastrous. The cuff was soon to become the bane of Gemma's existence- a prison. It was designed by a man named Tony Stark. He was a brilliant scientist as well as being incredibly wealthy and famous. He designed a lot of equipment for S.H.E.I.L.D and was actually a nice guy, provided that he'd had enough to drink.  
Despite the fact that Tony had always been amiable towards her, Gemma didn't like him. First of all, he had invented her worst enemy. Secondly, he was a scoundrel and a womanizer (something Gemma had grown to hate). And thirdly, he refused to call her by her chosen name, Gem, and always referred to her as either Gemma (which reminded her of being scolded as a child and never failed to trigger painful memories of abandonment) or, if he was in a particularly insensitive mood, with a loopy whirl of his index finger at his temple, as if to imply that she were the crazy one.  
Anyhow, with her punishment for her most recent act of teenage rebellion preventing her from doing thing the easy way, under the lightening sky Gemma Shepherd took relish in the success of an effortlessly executed plan. She felt a growing anticipation in the pit of her stomach as she lifted the bow, notched a particularly fancy arrow, (she suspected it was loaded with a little more then the average gun powder) and drew it back. She was surprised at first at the taunt feel to the string- which was much tighter than any of the bows she'd practiced with in the past. However, years of living with S.H.E.I.L.D. in hot, desolate New Mexico had taught her to be strong physically as well as mentally and so a taught bowstring was not even a minor setback for her toned arms and shoulders.  
She focused in on her target: a decrepit looking practice bull's eye, worn from decades of violent activity. Expertly, she released the arrow and felt a satisfactory leap of joy in her stomach as the arrow whizzed from her straight towards the red center.  
The moment of joy was short-lived. "Get down!" a deep voice was shouting nearby and to her left. Her heart sank. It was Nick Fury himself. With her abilities hindered by Stark's abhorrent device, Gemma hadn't noticed the man's approach. She was used to relying on her ability to read minds to alert her of any threat and admittedly, she was rusty on her other five senses.  
Gemma turned in her shock to scowl at Fury. "GET DOWN YOU IDIOT GIRL!" he screamed. He was only about fifteen feet away now, charging her like a bull. His one eye smoldering with passionate anger. Still, Gemma did not move- she was so distracted by the reverberations of her paradise collapsing around her. Boy, was she was going to be in trouble.  
Suddenly the entirety of the weight of a full grown man crashed down on her knocking her to the ground face-first. And not a moment too soon. As she hit the ground an explosion blew up around the training yard. Shards of metal, glass, fire and earth flew through the air. For a long, drawn out moment the air shone with waves of heat and the earth seemed to be vibrating beneath her body. Slowly, Gemma felt her senses sharpen back out as the explosion faded away.  
Spitting dirt out of her mouth, Gemma groaned. She put a hand to her temple feeling the telltale stickiness of blood. Shit. She noticed Fury laying motionless not far away. Double shit. She thought. If it wasn't Fury who had tackled her it must be one of the soldiers. Which meant of course that she was going to have a lot of explaining to do. Fury liked her and if he had been the only one to witness her actions she might have gotten off the hook with minimal consequences. Fury would be mad- there was no doubt about that. But he at least cared for her, which was much more than she could say for any of the others.  
The soldier on top of her shifted his weight off of her with a groan. "Oh fuck". He muttered. Gemma froze.   
That voice, it didn't belong to just any soldier. It was Hawkeye himself. Really, really, really shit. She thought, her mind turning frantic. She was in for it big this time. Maybe they would never take the cold metal cuff off of her neck- that was the worst punishment she could imagine. Inhibited like this with no end in sight, Gemma would rather die.  
Clint Barton got to his feet. "You okay?" he asked, voice full of concern. Gemma peered up at him through her dark brown hair now singed by the explosion. Blood clotted in her vision and she felt a throbbing ache throughout her entire body. But those things she could live with. It was more a matter of the ordeal that was sure to follow that worried her.  
"I'm fine." She muttered, wincing as she applied pressure to the gash on her forehead.  
"I have to say, for such an incredibly stupid kid, you sure make a good archer." He told her, grinning. “I do believe you actually hit the bulls eye before the explosives went off,” he offered his hand. She accepted and he pulled her to her feet. Gemma handed him his quiver and bow, which she had managed to keep a hold of. Hawkeye look at the with a mild amusement before securing them to the straps on his back.  
"I'm really sorry-"she began, but he cut her off, a look of concern on his face as he finally took in the damage that the explosion had done to her.   
"You're bleeding really bad. We need to get you to the infirmary. Pronto. Fury!" He called out to the man laying on the ground. The man moaned but slowly got to his feet. Gemma wobbled on her feet, realizing that she felt dizzy and unbalanced. The explosion probably had busted an eardrum or something. She was surprised that Barton looked so unharmed aside from a bruise forming on his jawline. He supported her weight as Fury stood up and took in the scene.  
"GEMMA! YOU FUCKING-"  
"It's Gem." She corrected, managing a grin which quickly turned into a grimace from the pain of what must have been a split lip. Fury lurched towards her but Hawkeye stopped him.  
"Ah, it's okay Sir. She didn't do any real damage. My bow's okay. No one is dead,"  
"REAL DAMAGE? WE ARE LOOKING AT THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS TO REPAIR THIS FUCKING TRAINING YARD!" he bellowed.  
Hawkeye chuckled. "Can you walk?" He asked.  
"Yeah, of course." Gemma replied haughtily. However, just taking one shaky step caused her to sway. She lurched forward, pitching head-first back onto the ground.  
"Woopsie daisies!" Hawkeye laughed. He scooped her up like a little kid and carried her to the infirmary mumbling something about a mild concussion. She had passed out before they'd even made it indoors.


	3. Healing

_____Loki___  
The pain was ebbing away but Loki wished it would stay. As he slowly began to feel better his head cleared. And with it came a far more real pain. The pain that could only be felt in his mind. In the aching depths of his beating heart. He moaned in misery and contemplated knocking himself out using the hard stone surface upon which he lay. Before he could do so however, a voice stopped him.  
"Son of Odin," it began. The voice was deep. Far deeper than that of any other being he had ever heard before.  
"I am not a son of Odin." He spat, his heart filled with rage. He turned his head, trying to get a better look at the person who'd spoken. The rawness of his skin stopped him from moving. He was still much too sore. Far too weak. His own disabilities disgusted himself.  
"Are you not? But it was he who raised you, he who love and cared for yo-" Loki sat up straight, despite the soreness of his body. He spied the speaker. A being- man-like in figure though taller. Much, much taller with a long golden beard and twinkling blue eyes that gave off the impression of seeing everything all at once.  
"I WAS NEVER LOVED!" Loki screamed. He could feel that now familiar chill creeping up his skin. He did not have to see himself to know that his body was transforming, contorting into it's true form- the form he hated so much. To his surprise Loki, felt a the tickle of tears in his eyes. Mundane, distasteful, abhorrent tears had sprung from his eyes and now ran down his cheeks. They would not stop coming. He tried to crawl away so that the being before him would not witness his breakdown, but his body was much too week and in the end he could do nothing more that curl into a protective ball and let the tears come. He cried a unrelenting stream, raking his chest with the painful sobbing until at last, he fell into a fitful sleep; tossing and turning on the stone ground before his mysterious savior.  
______Gemma_________  
Gemma lay in a cot in the infirmary, stunned and silent. Fury was yelling at her, specks of spit flew from his mouth onto her face. It was a spectacle she was used to. Fury always seemed to be mad at her. It didn't scare her anymore. When she had been younger, Gemma would cry whenever he raised his voice. Now she knew he didn't mean anything by it. He only meant to scare her into submission. The guy would never hurt her, she was like a daughter to him.  
"I am sorry. If I'd know the arrow was so dangerous I'd never have used it." Gemma explained, while rubbing the bandage on her head absentmindedly. "I'm going to need more gauze, this one is already bleeding through." She added.  
"Don't change the subject! Gem, you could have been seriously injured. Not just you, but you put the lives of everyone on this entire establishment in danger with your actions! Not to mention, you stole that weapon from a very, very important man. Clint is our most efficient soldier and we cannot afford to loose him!"  
"He wasn't even that mad at me." Gemma grumbled, glowering at Fury.  
"Well I am! And you have to realize, S.H.E.I.L.D is going to have to take this offense very seriously. If we cannot punish you by crimping on your abilities any further, much more drastic changes are in store."  
She nodded, deciding to go with her favorite tactic when it came to getting out of trouble: playing along.  
"I understand, Sir." She mumbled, adverting her eyes to her hands in order to appear innocent and well behaved.  
Fury sighed and passed a worn hand over his face rubbing his eye.  
"You are a good kid, Gem. I know that. But I am incredibly disappointed. And I am worried. You must know that S.H.E.I.L.D. is going to be hard to work with on this one." Leaving her with those words, he strode out of the infirmary.

Gemma felt a hollowness in her stomach that hurt a lot harder than any of her wounds. Yes, she'd done worse things during her time at SHIELD, but apparently these offenses had added up and Gemma didn't have to be good at math to tell that the sum wasn't pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry- Loki may seem ooc in this chapter but things will be back to normal once he's gotten over this breakdown.


End file.
